


Jackass Jesus and the Evils of Halloween

by DigitalInfamy



Series: Jackass Jesus [4]
Category: Christian Bible, Christian Bible (New Testament)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Halloween, Humor, Parody, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-23 22:50:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8345860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalInfamy/pseuds/DigitalInfamy
Summary: Jackass Jesus is dismayed to see that humanity has largely abandoned belief in him and are instead celebrating the ungodly holiday of Halloween. Intent on rectifying this, Jesus returns to Earth, but as usual, things don't go his way.





	1. Chapter 1

Hi. I’m Jesus-Fucking-Christ.

Son of God. Savior of the world. Humanity’s messiah – ah, fuck this shit. If you don’t know who I am by now, then where the fuck have you been all this time?

But I digress.

Right now, I’m wandering aimlessly in heaven, looking down at humanity through Heaven’s “God Mode” vision tool, watching them preparing for a shitty un-Christian celebration called Halloween. It’s about a week away at this point, so I see parents and their children scurrying around, decorating houses, fences and pretty much anywhere they can hang some lights and plastic jack-o-lanterns, satanic figures and other ugly shit.

I sweep my gaze over to a particularly small suburb called Fenwick, which is full of small, cosy looking houses, all with cream white concrete walls, dark tiled sloping roofs with a small chimney poking up from one side, and neat green front lawns. Most of these houses are all perfectly lined up around suburban streets, most of which stretched on in straight lines for about the length of fifteen houses in a row before ending in T-junctions at either end, before continuing on to do the same shit over and over again, forming perfect grids of boring, criss-crossing streets.

Basically, this suburb was a neatly developed living space, made for middle class douchebags and their families.

Said douchebags and their families are currently scurrying around in the bright morning Sunday sun, draping string lighting over the fronts of their houses, placing pumpkin lanterns along their walkways, littering their front yards with fake plastic ghosts, zombies, demons, tombstones, Donald Krumpfs and other satanic shit, and basically making their properties look as fucking ugly as possible.

And to think that they’re doing all this on a Sunday! When they could be at church! What the fuck is wrong with people nowadays?

But I digress.

Anyway, there isn’t anything too interesting going on at this point in time, with pretty much every fucking house doing the same fucking thing, so I find myself getting bored quickly and my mind begins to wander as I look around.

Why the fuck aren’t these people decorating their yards with fucking awesome biblical figures, like Moses, God, or even me? These people did plenty of awesome and scary shit, plenty more awesome than what shitty ghosts and zombies do in equally shitty fiction.

I mean, look what my daddy did to Pharaoh and the Egyptians – locusts, rivers of blood, child killings… that’s plenty scary. Why the fuck are these people falling all over themselves over these fictional spawns of Satan? Why the fuck is Halloween such an ungodly holiday?

Then it hits me. These people don’t know how awesome my daddy is. They haven’t accepted me as their Lord and Savior. They’ve forgotten about my awesome power. Hell, these people can’t even be bothered to go to church today, instead wasting their precious money on these crappy plastic displays instead of giving it to the church where it could go to some better cause, like buying the pastor a shiny new car or private plane so he can do the Lord’s will.

Somebody’s going to have to fix this fucking situation.

I look around the suburb more carefully, eyeing every street to look for godly people railing against the corruption of the culture. It’s hard to spot anyone doing this sort of thing these days – after all, not everyone is brave enough to go the route of the Westboro Baptist crusader-type railing against faggots and other people that my daddy hates, so I have to really look hard to find them. If they exist, these people will probably be the “stealth Christian” type – the one that keeps their faith to themselves until they absolutely need to use it. They’re more common these days, because most of my followers have become major pussies.

Eventually, I find a street which looks just like all the other streets in this suburb, with the exception of two things. On one end of the street, at the T-junction is a medium sized sandstone Catholic church building, complete with towering spires and stained glass windows. It’s taking up the land area of four houses, and is surrounded by some of the nicest, greenest lawns in this whole suburb.

Unfortunately, on the other T-junction at the opposite end is the house of an obvious douchebag. It looks just like all the other houses in the neighborhood, except it’s double story. It has all the usual Halloween decorations, just like the others, but this time, it has a massive banner hung across the second floor, saying “Fenwick Atheist Group” in big black letters.

Fenwick Atheist Group. F.A.G. Suits them just right if I do say so myself, the fucking pricks.

But no matter. Earth is full of douchebags. I’ll just ignore them, and work with the church on the end.

Sure, they’re Catholics, and Catholics are a majorly uptight lot, that take orders from a creepy old fucker called the Pope, who’s an expert in sounding boring and molesting kids, but beggars can’t be choosers. I’ll work with what I have.

Now I have to formulate some sort of plan. How am I going to save all these ungodly people? Well, I’ll have to convince them to stop celebrating Halloween and go to Church and celebrate God. And to do that, I’ll have to go down there and start spreading the good news to these people, just like in the good old days.

I allow my mind to wander again, thinking about how awesome it would be to be back down on Earth. Just imagine, me walking around the streets dressed up as me, Jesus Christ for Halloween, while everybody else has their shitty cheap costumes. Not only will my costume look so much better, I’ll be able to spread my glory once again, gathering a massive crowd of Christ-followers in the process, which I’ll then lead into the church where they’ll be served by the priests and deacons and then God himself as he makes himself present among the congregation…

That would be pure brilliance. But I digress yet again. There’s a roadblock that I need to address.

Now if you recall, I am still grounded for getting too chummy with Satan way, way back, but hopefully I should be able to talk my daddy into letting me off for now. After all, apart from being a major douche-fuck, God is also a mega narcissist and hates the idea of people not worshiping him. Shouldn’t be too hard to convince him to let me off for some evangelism work.

I run off to the throne in search of my dad to ask, and sure enough, I guessed right: I’m temporarily un-grounded so I can go down to Earth and walk among the people as one of them.

Now if you’ve read your Bibles like you should have, then you might be confused. Shouldn’t the second coming of Christ be when the rapture happens? Well, yeah, but like I said, daddy’s a douche fuck. Also, he’s fucking lazy, so he’ll make exceptions when he wants to get out of doing shit.

Hell, Moses and friends killed three thousand people over a fucking golden calf after receiving the ten commandments, of which commandment seven says “thou shalt not kill” and God let him get away with that, so stop whining.

Of course, Daddy didn’t let me off without a condition: that I was to be stripped of most of my powers. Daddy doesn’t want me to cause too much of a scene. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I can still reach people without miracles.

So, with that said, I walk past heaven’s usual scenery: the towering golden mansions, the rivers of milk and honey, and the massive wide open fields of unnaturally green grass, to reach the front gate, where I break out into a run to the boundary of heaven and beyond, then activating my messiah warp teleport down to Earth.

Time to become righteous again, dear humanity, because I’m fucking back, bitches.


	2. Chapter 2

I teleport right onto a random street in the suburb, right at an unattended T-junction and behind the wall of a house and out of sight of the scurrying people running around in their front lawns.

I walk towards the corner of the house and take a peek past the side and down the street. On this particular street, the decorating excitement seems to have died down somewhat now, since it’s midday and everyone’s probably gone back inside for lunch. This should give me some time to prepare what I’m going to say.

Waltzing into the street, I begin walking down the left sidewalk, casually strolling and imagining costumed people of all sorts walking in front of me. I give a gentle wave and flash my cool messiah smile to these imagined people as I keep walking, hoping that they’ll give me their attention and time to deliver my “Good News” to them and hopefully get their asses back into the pews. It’s a potentially slow strategy, but it’ll have to do. Of course, I could just run into the street and yell about how they’re all going to hell, but I hear that’s going out of fashion these days. Besides, if I play it cool, then I might get some bonus pussy alongside the salvation.

“Hey, that’s a cool costume!” Some cute sounding kid yells out from my left and I’m rudely broken out of my thoughts.

I look toward where the voice came from. Standing next to the letterbox in the front yard, is a chubby little boy, in a simple blue t-shirt and jeans, short blond hair and the cutest, squishiest face I’ve seen in a while. He’s pretty short as well, his head barely above the top of the letterbox.

“It’s not a costume.” I say. “Do you know who I am?”

“Uh… no.” He pauses to rack his brain. “Should I?”

“Yes you should, because I’m Jesus Christ. Do you know now?”

“Uh… no?” He gives me the cutest quizzical expression. However, even that face can’t suppress the rage that’s beginning to build up inside me. How the fuck can he not know who I am? Didn’t his parents teach him anything?

I try again. “Jesus Christ, savior of humanity, son of God. Ring any bells?”

“I think I’ve heard that name somewhere…”

Seriously? You _think_ you’ve heard it somewhere? You should hear that name a hundred times a day you fucking little chubby cunt! This generation is fucked if this is normal!

“Listen, kid.” I say while raising both my hands to my face in frustration, “ask your parents about –”

“Woah! Cooool! How’d you do those holes in your wrists?”

“What?”

“Your Halloween costume. How’d you fake holes in your wrists like that?”

I realized that by raising my hands, the sleeves of my robe have slipped to reveal the nail holes. “Because it’s not a costume. I’m Jesus Christ. Messiah of humanity. Crucified on the cross. Died and rose again. Does _any_ of that ring a bell?”

“Uh… no.”

“Do you know what the Bible is?”

“Some old-school book of fairy tales I think.”

Oh, I’m fucking mad now.

“It’s not a bunch of fairy tales, you fucking chubby prick!” I say, my voice rising with every word. I’m almost yelling at this stage in fact. “The Bible is real! It’s fucking real you fat fuck! I’m the messiah, and you should bow down and worship me, and accept me as your Lord and Savior or go burn in hell!”

The kid is terrified now. Slowly, he backs away, tears forming in his horrified eyes. Then he turns around and starts running to his front door, bawling his eyes out as he does.

“Mummy! There’s a mean man that called me fat!” He yells between sobs, just as he throws open the front door and runs inside. The door slams shut behind him, and all I can hear are muffled yells and crying.

Serves you right, you little sinning bastard.

I turn back down the street and continue walking, my gaze wandering among the house fronts, in search of more people. Soon enough, I encounter more little kids wandering out from their front doors as I stroll by them. I decide to talk to them too – maybe these ones will be better.

I approach a short girl with blond pigtails and denim overalls, around the same age as the boy I yelled at earlier. She’s happily skipping along down the walkway with a toy jack-o-lantern, and I saunter over to her just as she reaches the letterbox by the sidewalk and hangs the lantern over the mailbox flag.

“Do you know who Jesus is?” I say coolly, catching her attention.

“Sort of, I think. My daddy talks about him all the time!”

My interest is piqued. Maybe it’s not all bad. “Really?”

“Yeah! My daddy says that Jesus is an old asshole that makes rednecks do stupid shit! Like vote for Donald Krumf!”

Rage bubbles up inside me once again. Seriously, fuck this generation.

“Where’s your Daddy now? I’d like to show him a thing or two about how much of an asshole I can be.”

Confusion overtakes the little girl’s face, before turning to realization. “You’re Jesus Christ? Oh… well…”

“Well what?”

“I better go now.” She says, before turning around and jogging back to her front door. “My daddy says to stay away from Jesus freaks!”

“Fuck your daddy!” I yell out after her, just as she runs inside the house.

Things were direr than I thought. Screw this nice-guy approach. I had to get to the church.

I hurry down the street, ignoring the few kids that had begun to run out onto the sidewalk to continue their decorating. I reach the T-junction at the end of the road before turning right to continue walking down the length of the street. This street was one of the many main ones that connected many of the other suburban streets on both sides in alternating patterns, which meant that the left and right streets were never opposite each other. Stupid design, if I do say so myself. So many fucking T-junctions. However, it wasn’t too much of a problem at this stage, since I knew that I only needed to follow this street to make my way to the church. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need to do too much navigating in the future.

Three quarters of the way down the road, I reached the front of the church, towering over me by my right. I made my way down the wide paved path towards the double wooden doors and push my way inside.

The church is completely empty, except for an elderly priest with wispy greying hair and wearing a traditional cassock, sitting on the raised stage by the pulpit, elbows propped up on his knees and his head buried in his hands. He doesn’t appear to notice me walk in, and continues to keep his face hidden in his wrinkly palms as I slowly walk down the aisle. As I approach, I take note of the large mural of a crucified me on the wall, directly above the ornate stone altar with eight candlesticks distributed evenly around an open bible on a stand, and two bronze statues of angels on either side. On the mural, my bloodied head is depicted as downcast, and I know they’re trying to make me look like I’m suffering and all, but right now, it looks like pitying the poor priest in front of me. Normally, I’d feel like laughing, but something about the current atmosphere made that more or less impossible. This shit is serious, that I knew deep down.

I came to a stop in front of him, and for a while I stand there, not saying a word and taking in the silence, broken occasionally by very soft weeping coming from the priest. Finally, he seems to take notice of my presence and raises his head, looking at me with tear stained eyes.

“Well…, about fucking time.” I say with a smile, then raise both my hands slightly in front of me so that the sleeves of my robe are pulled back to reveal the nail holes in my wrists.

His eyes widen. “Jesus Christ? In the flesh? Oh, my prayers have been answered! Maybe this wicked generation can still be saved.” He says, before breaking out into joyous chuckles. Fresh tears stream down his face as he stands to his feet, stumbling forward to embrace me and burying his face into my neck while crying with joy as he does this.

I simply stand there, holding him gently as he sobs and sobs his heart out. Finally, he’s spent, and he slowly disentangles himself from me, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his cassock as he looks back into my eyes.

“And to think that I had to use my ninja nuns and machine-gun priests to cleanse this filthy city, ha-ha!” He says with a bright grin, soon breaking out into hearty chuckles and I can’t help but laugh along with him. Ninja nuns? Machine-gun priests? Who’d have known it? This old fucker has a sense of humor!

“Come now,” he says once he finishes laughing, “we have much work to do.” He leads me up the few steps on the stage, and to the door on the right side of the altar which lead to a backroom.

As I step through the door, I take note of the room. The interior is quite simple, with only a wooden wardrobe by the right corner just beside the window, and a simple wooden table by the opposite wall with a wooden crucifix placed in the center, in front of a bible. What gets my attention however, is the mass of photographs, papers and notes sticky taped and tacked into the wall behind the desk. Red string was strewn across the tacks, connecting the pieces of paper like a giant, red spider web. This guy looked like some fucking spy in the movies, planning some serious shit.

“Come now, Jesus.” The priest says, as he strides over to the desk. I don’t need any prompting to follow and stand by his side – my curiosity is piqued.

“This is the situation.” He says, gesticulating to the mass of paper and strings in front of us. “It all starts with this.” He says, jabbing his finger with lightning speed to a piece of paper near the bottom that read “COMPLACENCY,” and I had to whip my head around to catch up. “People get complacent. Life’s too comfortable. This leads people to forget God.” He’s beginning to rattle off words faster than a machine gun as he’s talking now. He’s pretty damn excited.

“This opens the door to Satan.” He rattles off, his pointing finger whizzing along a red string to stop on the words “SATAN” up top. Once again, I have to whip my head around to catch up.

“Satan attacks when we’re vulnerable you see. How does he do this? Well, there are many ways. One of them is media!” His finger whips along another red string to “UNGODLY LIBERUL MEDIA,” jabbing at it for emphasis.

“The next is entertainment!” Again, his finger whips along a string and over to my side to “DEMONIC SATANIC MOVIES” and I’m finding it really hard to keep up now. Everything’s just a blur as he waves his hand everywhere at warp speed. “You see what Halloween is, Jesus? Just yet another tool in Satan’s arsenal, used to seduce our youth! They’re too busy being entertained by Satan to pay any attention to God. Oh, all the times I’ve heard that Mass is boring, God is boring, Jesus is a douchebag…” He’s slowing down now, giving my spinning head a brief moment to recover. However, it doesn’t last long as once again, he perks back up with another salvo of rapid fire words.

“And then there’s ungodly politicians… godless parents… Hillary Cunton… New Atheists…” His finger is whizzing all over the place as he’s rambling, and making me dizzy as I try to keep up. Finally, he pauses to take a deep breath. “Well you get the idea.”

I pause to gather my bearings as he turns to face me. “Uh, yeah. I’m the messiah. I know this already.”

The priest looks at me blankly for a brief moment. Then realization crossed his face. “Oh, right, I know. I just got carried away. It’s been a pet project of mine you know, the documentation of our downfall. Few people understand the gravity of the situation! We are in a war with many fronts. And there are two in this very city!”

“Wait, two? I thought there was only ungodly Halloween that was the problem?”

“And David Pilverman of the Fenwick Atheists Group. He’s coming after our children this very Halloween!”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s handing out flyers to all the local kids, trying to get them to renounce their faith and declare themselves atheists!” He says, a wild, panicked look appearing in his eyes. “Well sure, most people don’t go to church anymore, but at least they still call themselves Christian! Once that’s gone, once they truly reject God in their hearts...” He reaches out and grasps my shoulders tightly. “Then they are lost. Devoured by the darkness. Doomed to burn in hell forever! We must do something before it’s too late!”

I don’t respond at first, staring back into the priest’s wild gaze and allowing the silence to lapse into awkwardness. Then, reaching up with both hands, I brush away his grip on my shoulders. “Calm down. I need time to think about a plan.”

“Think? Think! The stakes are dire. Think and they’re gone! And then I’ll have to activate my emergency protocol transfiguratio! Do you want that!”

“Emergency protocol transfigu-what?”

“Transfig – never mind. That’s not important. Just… save the children. I will not let that evil man Pilverman take my children!”

“Your children? They belong to God–”

“No, Jesus!” He yells, and I can see a glint return to his eye. However, this one is different from the last, and I can feel chills creep up my spine. “No… I will not let him have _my_ children, Jesus. I will not.” He slaps his hands on my shoulders again. “Do not let him take my children away... they are _mine_.”

Once again, silence falls over the both of us, stretching into awkwardness. Again, I brush off his hands from my shoulders, and slowly back away to the door. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’m the messiah, remember? I can do anything!”

“Oh, I hope so.” He says, wild glint still in his eye. “My hands do the Lord’s work. Only I should touch and hold them, to keep them within the fold of holiness. Pilverman should keep his filthy hands away from these beautiful youths if he knows what’s good for him!”

With that said, I back out through the open doorway, and onto the stage until I was out of sight of the priest. Only then did I turn and speed walk off the stage and down the aisle. When I reached the front doors, I quickly pushed my way through them, crossing the road running beside the church to continue down the street that lead directly away from the T-junction.

My emotions were a mess, but my thoughts weren’t, as a single statement pushed itself to the forefront of my mind, making its way to the tip of my tongue where I uttered it under my breath. “Creepy bastard.”


	3. Chapter 3

I’m walking slowly down the street, my mind still in a haze of conflicting emotions.

The priest started acting weird toward the end of our conversation, making me feel uncomfortable even though I still couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. Besides, thanks to daddy’s shitty conditions, I’ve lost my omnipotence, so I’ll have to work it out manually, just like everyone else.

I replayed in my mind what he said toward the end, about how the children were all his to hold within the fold of holiness; I thought about the spark of madness that gleamed in his eyes as he ranted and raved about the evil Mr Pilverman and his plan to take the children away. This was a man dedicated to saving children from the evils of the culture. What’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with keeping children in the folds of holiness? Why the fuck am I disturbed by somebody that is on my side?

I mean, it would be great if the “folds of holiness” that the good priest talks about were an actual physical place, so I could seal it up permanently to keep kids Christian. You know, that would make it easier to evangelize since I’d only have to do it once. Just tell them to walk into this lovely “folds of holiness” and I’ll seal you up in there…

For some reason, my mind brought up the image of the priest in his flowing cassock, standing in the church with crowds of children running from around the pews to crawl under his skirt to take refuge within, with the priest’s tender, groping hands gently taming the mass of swarming kids in his clothes. He’d smile warmly while he kept them safe within the folds, holding them within the presence of his holiness…

Then realization punched me in the fucking face.

Holy shit. Church kids. Folds of holiness. Touch. Hold… Child molester. It all fit together.

Now that really puts a huge fucking hole in my plan.

I wanted to get the people away from Halloween and into the churches. However, no parent in their right mind is going to bring their children into the church if all the priest is going to do is to shag them. Also, it will really make me look good, won’t it?

I remember the mural of me in the church, looking down with pity at the priest and this time I laugh aloud at the image. What a fucking ironic, sick joke; it’s like the painting of me is saying to the laity, “I know the dirty fucker’s secret, but I can’t do shit!” That’s a real great advertisement for the wonders of Christianity, isn’t it?

My mind runs through my options.

Option one: convince the parents that it isn’t really so bad, and that they should still attend church with all their kids. I think up an argument:

Priests can’t help but molest children every once in a while. You know, it’s like getting angry at dogs for chasing cars. It’s your fucking fault for not keeping your kids away from them…

Fuck. Bad argument. Let’s try again:

Priests have to stay celibate, so they get really, really horny and need to fuck something nearby. Good Christian mothers should fuck them first to satisfy them, before they fuck your kids…

Shit. That one doesn’t work either. Okay, there’s no way in hell I can go with option one. I’ve got no choice but to go to option two: an alternative to church.

But what alternative? They’ve already got one, in the form of Halloween. What the fuck else is there?

I look around half-heartedly in front of me, as if I expected that would magically find me a solution. However, I find that my eyes were drawn to a certain double story house, situated at the T-junction and with a large banner hung from the second floor and I’ve realized that I’ve found my answer.

I’m halfway down the street now, and I decide to pick up the pace as I walk toward the house. I reach the T-junction, and cross to the other side, walking down the walkway from the sidewalk toward the front door. Raising my fist, I prepare to knock on the door, then freeze as the enormity of what I’m doing hits me.

Jesus Christ, Son of God, messiah of humanity, savior of the world, is asking for help from an evil atheist. What the hell am I doing? I should be able to fix this myself.

Seriously, when the fuck did I ever ask for help from heathens? Maybe I should just go and pal along with Pharisees, Satanists and Pastafarians now. Oh, sure, they’re all a little evil, but I can ignore that right? They’re probably all cool, right? After all, daddy was plenty pleased with my little heart to heart with Satan the last time. I’m sure he’ll be fucking pleased that I’m getting friendly with horrible, wicked baby-eating atheists.

However, try as I might, I can’t think of any solution that would work right now. I’m stripped of pretty much all my powers, so unless my daddy comes down and fixes things himself – not that it would ever happen, given how lazy he is – then I’m shit out of luck.

I bring back my fist, and wince, preparing to knock on the door when it suddenly opens, and a man in his thirties appears at the door. He’s dressed quite professionally, in a black suit and pants, with a dull red business shirt and a shiny red silk tie. His face is clean shaven, and his close-cropped black hair looks like so perfect that it was like he just got back from the stylist. Basically, this guy was all business.

He clearly wasn’t expecting me and he jumps back in surprise when he sees me in his way, but quickly recovers, plastering on a winning smile. “Oh hi. Who are you?”

I drop my fist back down to my side. This time, I’m the one that’s stunned, since I hadn’t planned anything I was going to say to him. Of course, in true messiah style, I quickly regain my composure. “Uh… Jesus. Jesus Christ. I’m the savior of all humanity…” I rack my brain for more things to say. “And you’re going to hell.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, you’re one of those types. Preparing to challenge the evil David Pilverman are you? Well prepare to have your faith destroyed.”

“No, I’m Jesus Christ himself. Savior of the world himself. You know, the actual dude that was crucified two thousand years ago. See?” I raise my fist again to show him the hole in my wrist. “Didn’t you see this earlier?”

He nods. “That’s a pretty good effect actually. How’d you do that? And you can drop the Jesus act. It’s not yet Halloween.”

I’m starting to get a little frustrated now. But what did I expect. He’s a douchebag atheist. “It’s not a fucking act. I actually am Jesus!”

He’s a little stunned by my outburst, as he looks over my face quizzically, his left hand moving up to stroke his chin. Suddenly, an epiphany appears to dawn on him and he pipes up again. “Oh, you’re another victim of fundamentalism! Well you know Jesus, if that is your actual name, let me tell you there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. You’re just a victim of religious indoctrination drilled into your head by your parents. I can help cure you –”

“Fuck this shit. I need your help.” I cut him off. I’m getting sick of his rambling.

“Damn right you do.”

“I need your help keeping kids away from Halloween and doing something more worthwhile, like going to church!”

David snorts. “Then why’d the fuck did you come to me? I’m sure as hell not going to help you with that.”

“No, I’m not asking that. The priest is a creepy old fucker, so I can’t send the kids there.” I didn’t tell him that I thought he was a child molester. After all, this asshole doesn’t need more ammo against my followers. “I’ll have to send them to you.”

His eyes light up at that suggestion. “I’m listening.”

“All you have to do is entertain them on Halloween so they don’t go out trick or treating. Simple.”

“You still haven’t told me how you’re actually get all the children in this suburb to stop celebrating Halloween, let alone how they’re all going to fit in this house.”

“Uh…” That was all I could manage, before lapsing into stunned silence. Shit, coming here was too hasty. I hadn’t planned anything, and now I look like a fucking idiot.

David decides to continue talking as if I’d never spoken. “You’re not from around here, are you? Because if you were, you’ll know that the kids sometimes cheat here and celebrate Halloween on more days than just the official day of October thirty-first you know. Sometimes, some of them can celebrate up to a week early. Good luck with your crusade against a fun holiday. Religion is soul destroying, isn’t it?”

“Wait, celebrating early? And multiple times for a week? that’s fucking cheating!”

“Says who?”

“Well… never mind. Just take care of the kids for the whole week then. I’ll figure out the details.”

“You know that I’m going to teach them to think critically and to discard the lie of faith, right?”

“Yeah… just… tell them about me so they’ll stay Christian.”

David simply laughs in response. “That’s not going to happen. In fact, I don’t think you’ll like the results. Why don’t you come inside? I think I have something to show you.” David then steps back from the door, leaving the doorway clear for me to enter. I oblige and step inside while David closes the door behind me.

Once inside, I find myself in some sort of living room, with a boring beige leather corner sofa taking up the far-left corner. There’s a low coffee table right in front of it with four massive stacks of pamphlets, and a flat screen TV mounted on the far wall which appeared to divide this room from the others behind it, whatever those were. However, other than that, there’s not really much that’s interesting about this place. Atheists are boring people.

“Take a seat.” Says David from my right, motioning towards the sofa. I walk over and slump down in the part of the sofa that’s along the front wall. David follows me, but sits on the other side of the corner sofa, alongside the adjoining wall. At this moment, I notice that the pamphlets in front of me have colorful cartoons in front of them and I realize almost immediately that these are targeted toward kids.

This fucker is trying to brainwash the youth! Fuck me, I have to choose between him and the child molester? Fuck this world.

“Go on,” David says, making me look up at him, “pick one up.”

I do as he says, examining the pretty artwork on the front. It showed a cutesy child crossing his arms and looking away from a whole bunch of religious symbols – the cross, the star and crescent, the star of David, and so on – with a snooty face. Across the top was the title, which read “The Lie of Faith. Just say no.” I take a quick glance over the other piles of pamphlets and I realize that they all have the same artworks, but different titles: “You KNOW they’re all myths,” “Fight delusion. Dump fairy tales,” and “Say no to scams.”

“I’m still not sure which title is the best,” David says, “but the content’s all the same. Feel free to have a read. They’re meant for children, but they’ll still useful for adults. In fact, I think it’ll help you.”

This time, I don’t oblige, tossing the pamphlet back onto the table. “No thanks.”

“That’s okay. Religious indoctrination can take time to recover from. But I’m here to talk to when you start doubting. Feel free to come anytime.”

“Fuck that shit.”

David holds up is hands defensively. “Hey, just trying to help. Just like how I help the children around here.”

My ears perk up. How the fuck does he help children? Seems like he’s hell bent on sending them all to hell. He’s really helping Satan. “Wait, how the fuck do you help children?”

“Well, you see, I’ve already started distributing these pamphlets. You might see some kids on the street with them in fact. Hopefully, the children around here will realize the fact that they aren’t Christian, Muslim, Jewish and so on just because that’s what their parents raised them to be. My hope is that they will realize that they are in fact atheists and say so openly. You know, I think I know a few kids that are close to that stage.”

Memories of the two kids that I had first met on arrival surface in my mind, and suddenly I’m mad again, the anger churning in my gut. I jump to my feet and start hollering at David. “You’ve already started poisoning their fucking young minds? You fucking sick fuck. You evil, fucking fuck! Go to hell!”

“Hell doesn’t exist, Jesus. Calm down.”

“It definitely exists! I’ve been there you know. It’s fucking hot! And you’re going to burn there forever and ever if you don’t repent this instant, you disgusting sinner!”

“Maybe you should take a walk, Jesus. You need to calm down. Let’s talk later, okay?”

I’m about to let him have another round of some righteous fury, but decide against it, keeping my mouth shut and the heat simmering within me.

David stands up from the sofa and leads me out the front door. I step outside, and prepare to march off down the walkway and down the street, when David decides to speak again. “Do you have a place to stay around here?”

I turn to face him. “Uh… no. How’d you know anyway?”

He shrugs. “Experience with people. Anyway, just so you know, you’re welcome to sleep on the couch at my place, you know. At least until you settle down around here.”

I look at him quizzically, staring intently into his eyes, and examining every feature of his face, from his eyebrows, to the tip of his nose, and then down to the corners of his lips, looking for any sign of deceitfulness or trickery. This has got to be a fucking trap. I’m going to wake up nailed to a fucking cross again while this heathen cuts my stomach open and drinks my blood or some shit like that. I can already see it in my mind.

However, I couldn’t see a hint of any malice in David’s face. This fucker must be really good at deceiving people, or he’s… actually genuine. That can’t be right.

“Why are you doing this for me?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“Just showing you what a friendly atheist looks like.” He says, before gently closing the door.

Stunned, I turn back toward the walkway, and walk down back toward the sidewalk. Then I follow the street to the right, slowly strolling along aimlessly whilst deep in my thoughts. Okay, maybe my conception of this David guy as some malicious baby-eater was a little premature. Sure, he seems like a nice guy, but his goals are fucking atrocious!

Teaching kids to not believe in God? Fucking terrible…

Yet he’s such a nice guy. Surely atheists aren’t all bad people? Can’t we be best chums?

My mind plays this fucking little back and forth for a while as I walk. What I’m really trying to do is to justify to myself how I can be nice to evil people. After all, my daddy wasn’t too pleased when I got too nice to Satan, so I know I need a good reason if I’m to be chummy with this guy.

Eventually, I come to the conclusion that unlike Satan, this guy isn’t too bad. He’s just going through a phase, that’s all, raging against the heavens because it’s the cool thing nowadays. He’s not really dangerous, like Satan. After all, how likely is it that he’ll succeed in his plan? How many openly atheist little kiddies have I seen? Not a single one, that’s for sure.

“Hey mister, nice costume!” Says a child somewhere in front of me, and I’m broken out of my thoughts. I’d been so engrossed in my own world that I hadn’t even noticed I’d almost run the kid over. In front of me, Is a cute little girl, with blond pigtails on either side of her head, and a simple chequered blue and white dress.

Also, in her hand, is one of David Pilverman’s brochures.

She looks me up and down. “Are you dressed as Jesus?”

“Yep. I’m Jesus Christ. Now do you believe in Jesus?”

“No. I’m an atheist.”

Oh, shit.

I turn around and run back toward the T-junction, then turn right to cross the street and follow the road leading away from David’s house and back toward the church at the other end.

Screw David’s offer. I’ll stay at the church, creepy priest or not. Besides, I'm probably going to need his help now.


	4. Chapter 4

I’ll spare you the boring details of what happened once I got back to the church. Basically, I just talked to the priest – whom I learned his name was Father Richard – about what I saw, and had a little pity party with him. The priest then talked about maybe having to activate his emergency protocol – which I still knew fuck all about – then he offered me a place to sleep in the other backroom in the church, which is where I pretty much stayed for the whole entire week, leaving occasionally to try to evangelize more people, with absolutely zero fucking success.

Right now, it’s the midnight before Halloween, and I’m lying here on the single mattress, staring at the roof and contemplating my failures to end this blasted holiday when I hear a loud gunshot in the distance. Rocketing up from the mattress, I look around the darkened room anxiously, trying to determine where it came from and whether it was an actual gunshot, or some douchebag fooling around with fireworks or some shit.

A while passes, and I hear nothing. I’m about to lie back down on the mattress when I hear another gunshot ring out. That’s it, I’m going to find out what the fuck is going on. It could be a preaching opportunity after all – I can point and say “see, this is what happens when you turn your back on God. Nasty shit happens!”

I make my way out of the church and to the sidewalk where I stop and listen for more. Sure enough, I hear another one ring out from somewhere toward the front-right.

I turn right and run down the street, looking at the streets on my left and trying to figure out which one to run down. I’m not sure, so I pick one at random, and run down it on the left sidewalk, quickly eyeing every house on both my left and right, trying to figure out where it came from. I’ve now run down the entire length of the street and to the other side, but I’ve yet to find any tell-tale signs of shootings.

Suddenly, I hear it again, and I’ve realized I’ve picked the wrong street. The sound has come a couple streets down, so again I turn and run right, down the adjoining street at the T-junction, looking to my right this time for the correct street.

Stupid T-junctions. Somebody should have put in little connecting walkways or some shit. I shouldn’t have to do this much running in this decade.

I pick another street two streets down from the one I left earlier and run down this one, sticking to the right sidewalk as I quickly once-over every household. This time, around the middle of the street and on my right, I see a house with an ajar door. I also notice the curtains of the neighbors are twitching, as if the people inside are trying to get a glimpse of some nasty shit, but are too scared to show their faces.

This has got to be the place.

I push my way through the door, finding myself in a living room. Quickly, I take in the scene around me.

Towards the left side of the living room, are five nuns and six priests, which all turned around to face me when I entered. However, these weren’t the fucking boring nuns and priests you normally see trying to save your soul and rape choirboys and orphans. These people looked fucking badass. Every nun had a katana sword strapped over their backs, while all but one of the priests were holding AR-15’s with huge drum mags and bump-stocks. Seriously, these people looked like they were ready for a holy war.

Behind them and slumped against the far-left wall is a family of three, all with bullet holes in their heads and blood all over their clothes. The youngest was a child, a _fucking_ child of maybe around five or six. What the fuck was this shit? Only my daddy has child killing privileges!

In the middle of them, and the only one that was unarmed, was Father Richard himself. In his right hand was a large water canteen.

My mind was racing now. Holy shit. Ninja nuns. Machine-gun priests. This fucker wasn’t kidding.

“Well,” Father Richard begins, “now you know what emergency protocol transfiguratio is.”

“What the fuck?” I was still stunned, and that was all I could manage.

“I’m saving these people, Jesus. Transfiguratio. Transformation. Into a true child of God.”

“Looks like you’re transforming them into piles of mush. How the fuck does this transform them?”

“It’s really quite simple, Jesus. We force them to confess their sins, repent and accept that Jesus Christ is God. Then we baptize them on the spot and then we shoot them in the head.”

“Wait… what the fuck? Since when was shooting a part of conversion?”

“Times change, Jesus. Times change. Shooting them ensures that they will enter into Heaven immediately after they are converted. After all, you and I know that this world is a hive of scum and villainy, far worse than Sodom and Gomorrah. In order for these precious souls to be saved, we must make sure that they cannot be tempted by the Devil.”

“What the…” My mind is still a mess. This guy is speaking nonsense… yet it all makes so much sense! Holy shit am I confused.

“Now Jesus,” Father Richard continues, “I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought I had any other choice. I do not want to see what happened to Sodom and Gomorrah befall this very city, would you?”

“I guess not... wait, how many people are you going to do this to?”

“As many as it takes, Jesus. I will not let God’s judgement befall this city.”

“Wait! You can’t do this to people!”

“No!” Father Richard yelled, his outburst catching me off guard. I also noticed a wild glint appear in his eye. “I can and I will. Don’t try to stop me. You’ll thank me later.”

And with that, Father Richard and his team of ninja nuns and machine-gun priests march out past me and out through the front door, leaving me alone in the room with the three bloodied bodies in front of me, and my mind a steaming wreck.

Hell of an advertisement for Christianity. This shit is really going to save people from Halloween, won’t it? I have to stop Father Richard from going on a holy massacre if I am to win more people to God. Shooting people to get them into heaven isn’t a good long term solution, this I decided. Sure, the children of this suburb will be saved, but what about the rest of the world? I needed him to go back to old fashioned methods if I didn’t want the fucking F.A.G. to win over us.

But how the fuck was I going to convince a bunch of machine-gun and katana wielding maniacs? I can barely convince children that God is real!

Thanks, Dad, for taking away my powers when I need them most.

When David Pilverman hears about this clusterfuck, he is going to have a field day…

David Pilverman…

That’s it! I’ll enlist the help of that douchebag atheist. He’ll no doubt have experience in fighting assholes like Father Richard.

I run out of the house, down the walkway before turning left to run down the full length of the street, to the T-junction. Once there, I cross the road to the other side, and keep running left to continue all the way to David Pilverman’s house.

Running up the walkway to his front door, I begin frantically knocking on his door, then pounding on it with both fists, hoping to wake him up. He shows up at the door soon enough, bleary eyed and in his blue and white chequered pajamas and bunny slippers. I’d laugh, if things weren’t so damn serious.

“David,” I yell as I grab his shoulders, “shit just got real. The fucking creepy priest is going around killing people to send them to heaven!”

“Whoa, slow down.” David says, still having trouble waking up. “Start from the beginning.”

I take a deep breath to calm myself down. “Father Richard has a secret group of assassins. And they’re going around converting and killing people to make sure they go to heaven.”

David looks at me incredulously. “Well you must be jealous then. They’re doing a better job than you.”

“David, this is fucking serious! They’re actually killing people!”

David’s face is still skeptical. “Well, looks like Sam Karris was right. Looks like the church does have an elite army of child molesters. Besides, how do you know this? I need some evidence.”

Suddenly, more gunshots ring out, this time down the street behind me and close to the church on the other end. “I saw them David. I fucking saw them. And they’re doing it again. You have to trust me!”

He pauses, looking past me and down the street, before looking back at me. Then he nods knowingly. “Okay, come inside. I’ll get dressed, then I’ll deal with them myself.”

David stands to the side, allowing me inside. As I walk through the door, David quickly closes the door behind me before running past me and through a wall opening on the far wall, toward the right of the TV. In a flash, he’s running back through, dressed in the exact same suit I’d seen him dressed in when I first saw him. Only this time, he’s got a nice fancy black and gold dress watch on his left wrist and he’s tucking a handgun into a conceal carry holster hidden in the front of his waistband, quickly tucking his dress shirt over the top soon after.

“Wait, David,” I say, “how the fuck are you going to take them all at once?”

“I know these creepy fuckers, Jesus. I’ll push their buttons.”

“So we’re just going to go right now? March inside there and shoot them all?”

David walks over to the curtains behind me and peers outside. “Nope. Not the right time. Tomorrow”

“Wait, what? So what the fuck did you get dressed for?”

“Preparation, Jesus. I do the same thing for all my speeches. You have to get into a serious mood to take on religious assholes. Believe me, they can wear down your stamina if you aren’t ready.”

“So we’re just going to sit here and let them kill more people?”

“Oh relax, Jesus. I know these people.” He motions for me to come over and look out the window, to which I oblige. Outside, I can see the priests and nuns walking back into the church after a furtive look around. “Looks like they’re finishing up. They’ll sleep during the day so that they’ll be fresh on Halloween night to preach about how evil society is. Happens every Halloween.”

David pulls away from the curtain to look at me, motioning to the corner sofa. “Take a nap, Jesus. We’ll take them on tomorrow.”

Without a word, I walk away from the curtains and over to the couch where I promptly laid myself down. David left the room through the wall opening, probably to sleep or prepare to kick some Catholic ass, I didn’t know which though I hoped it was the latter. As for me, sleep took a while to catch on in my current mental state, but eventually, I succumbed and dozed off.

 

* * *

 

I awoke to David rapidly shaking me awake.

“Jesus, it’s past five in the evening.” He said softly. “We’ll observe what those Catholic fuckers are doing right now.”

I hadn’t realized that I’d slept for so fucking long. Now I’ve got less than half an hour to save the children from Halloween. However, I was too tired to be bothered to ask why he waited until now to wake me.

Blinking to clear my eyes, I sat up and watched as David hurried over to the curtains again and peeked outside. All the decorating had been completed now, so the streets were empty. However, it wasn’t too far to the start of trick or treating now so I didn’t expect that things would stay that way for long.

David takes a glance at his watch. “Right, I think it’s now time to confront these fuckers.” He marches over to his front door and opens it, looking over to me still seated on the sofa. “You coming?”

“Sure.” I say, leaping up and making my way out the front door and onto the sidewalk. Soon after, David was right beside me and we were both marching down the street toward the church at the other end.

As we were walking, David decided to ask me a question. “Jesus, you still haven’t told me why you’re so opposed to Halloween, you know. What’s so bad about it?”

I’m taken aback by the sudden question. But I guess I never really told him why I hated it, so I should have been expecting this sooner or later. “Because it’s demonic and anti-God. It distracts people from God by making their lives look less shitty, so they don’t know how much they really need him.”

David nods. “I can think of plenty of things that fit that description. Like women. Do you like women, Jesus?”

“Oh fuck yes.”

“When you’re married, women stop becoming angels and start becoming spawns of hell, let me tell you. Therefore, women are demonic and anti-God. However, women are very attractive and fulfilling, so it’s a distraction from God by making my life look less shitty. Perhaps you should stop worrying about people having fun and just trust the judgement of people? Maybe that way, people might hate your god less. He’ll seem less like a killjoy. They might even stop running away in such huge numbers, you know, though I can’t guarantee that.”

“Uh… I get your point, but I think it’s better to take away their shitty festivals. It’s a fucking eyesore.”

“Okay, Jesus. I get that. But maybe you should let people have their harmless fun. What’s wrong with an activity that bonds family and friends together, even if it doesn’t involve God? There is real beauty in human connection. Learn to embrace it.”

Shit, he’s got me there. I really should stop arguing with other people. I’m pretty shit at it nowadays though whether that’s because I’m getting dumber or people are getting smarter, that I don’t know.

We walk the rest of the way to the church in silence. David walks ahead of me and pushes open the front doors, with me following closely behind.

Father Richard is standing at the pulpit, rambling unintelligibly. In front of him are the five ninja nuns and the five machine-gun priests that I had seen earlier, weapons slung around their bodies and facing toward the pulpit. As we enter, I see Father Richard look up at us with scorn, while the five nuns and priests all turn around. The nuns reached for their swords on their backs but didn’t draw them, while I saw the priests tighten their grips around the stocks of their guns.

“So, David,” Father Richard began, “have you come to repent?”

“No, Richard. I’ve come to fight you.”

I see the wild glint return to his eyes as we approach the front row of pews.

“Really David? How foolish of you.” Father Richard said, as the nuns drew their swords and the priests brought the stocks of their guns to their shoulders, but with the barrels lowered. “Prepare to face the wrath of God.”

I’m fucking terrified at this stage, and take a glance over to David standing on my left. However, unlike me, David doesn’t seem the least bit scared, with a winning smile on his face.

David takes a step forward, leaning toward the priests conspiratorially. “You know, I don’t see a clock around here, so I’m not sure if any of you know what the time is.”

All the machine-gun priests look at him quizzically, which David took as his cue to continue. Briefly, he raised his wristwatch to check the time, then looked back toward the priests. “It’s almost five-thirty. The start of Halloween. You know what that means?” He said with a wink.

The confused look was still on the faces of the priests.

“That means that there will be lots of attractive little young boys running around out there.” David continued, and in response, I see the machine-gun priests look at each other. Then suddenly, they all throw down their guns and start running around the right side of the pews toward the front door, stripping off their cassocks as they ran.

I turned to watch them as they all made their way out the front door. Then once the last priest was through the door, I turned back to David, completely, absolutely fucking shocked. He simply gives me a smirk in response. This guy knows what the fuck he’s doing.

David then turns away from me and toward the nuns. “You know, I’m sure that some of those young girls might be adopted orphans. So, what are you waiting for? Do you want filthy Evangelicals to get their hands on them first?”

All the ninja nuns look at each other, before they too throw down their weapons and run around the other side of the pews to the front door, also tearing at their clothing.

So much for chastity vows.

I’m beginning to smile at David’s victory, but then have a minor freak out thinking about the priests and nuns chasing after the kids outside. Holy shit, did we do the right thing? It’s harder to evangelize damaged goods.

However, David appears to sense my unease. “Don’t worry Jesus. In my experience, these priests and nuns are usually too fat and slow to catch sugar hyped kids. Nothing’s going to happen.” He says with a reassuring smile.

We both look back toward Father Richard, still standing behind the pulpit. He’s fuming mad. Like, fires of hell mad. He wouldn’t look out of place in a cartoon with that red face. All he needs now is some steam shooting out of his ears.

“You filthy sinners,” he spat, as he began strolling to the left side of the pulpit, “there will be no repentance for the both of you. Now, prepare to face the wrath of God!”

And with that, he tore open his cassock, sending the buttons flying and revealing his own AR-15, which was kitted out just like the others in his group, with the exception of the silencer on the muzzle. Gripping the gun with both hands, he brought it up to his hip and pointed the barrel between the both of us, jamming his finger down on the trigger and spraying bullets down the aisle.

David and I managed to jump out of the way of the gunfire, with me jumping right behind the pews while David jumped left. Despite the silencer, the gunfire was still earsplittingly loud as it echoed within the building. The bullets tore up the pews, sending wood splinters over both me and David. For a while, we were both spread flat out on the floor, trying to avoid the flying wood and bullets, when suddenly the gunfire stopped.

“Mother of God!” Father Richard cursed, and I could hear him slapping his gun. I took a peek over the top of my pew, watching the priest fumble with the drum magazine. It appeared to be jammed.

I took a look over to David, and saw him draw his handgun from his pants. This was his opportunity to take a shot, and he was going to go for it.

David pushed himself up, brought the muzzle of his gun over the pew and began firing, just as the priest appeared to have cleared the jam. The bullets struck him in the shoulder, chest and gut, but wasn’t enough to knock him down.

“Jesus Christ!” Father Richard yelled, then unleashed another volley of bullets in David’s direction. I watched as David took hits in the arms, then the face, and he fell to the ground between the pews, dead.

Well, that’s one douchebag down. What about the other one?

I turned back to see Father Richard laying on his side by the pulpit, a nice bullet hole between his eyes. Looks like David had managed to fire off one last shot as he went down.

Okay, douchebag two down. I stood up and made my way back to the aisle, brushing the wood splinters off me and taking in the carnage. I also had a quick look over at David and the priest, to check that they were still dead.

Now what the fuck do I do?

The question wormed its way to the front of my mind. Sure, I’d failed to stop Halloween, but I could still try and get them to stop the celebration mid-way and do something else instead. After all, I could still get them to attend church…

I looked around at the bullet riddled pews around me, and the shattered stone tiles on the floor. Yeah, I don’t think I can fix this mess in less than half a day.

Okay then, I’ll get them to go to David’s house…

I looked over to David, who was still lying motionless, though this time in a pool of blood. I can’t fix that. At least not without my powers. And who the fuck wants to resurrect a douchebag?

Yeah, I won’t be able to take that option either.

Sighing, I turn back toward the front doors and slowly trudge down the aisle toward them. Looks like I’ve truly failed to stop Halloween. Jesus Christ, the fucking messiah, crucified on the cross for all humanity, defeated sin once and for all, couldn’t even stop a fucking _holiday_.

I reach the front doors and place my hands on both the doorhandles, but pause, not wanting to push them open and see the celebration outside. I don’t exactly want to be reminded of my failure. But it’s not like I can avoid it. Just suck it up, Jesus. Go outside and enjoy the spectacle of your failure. Stop being a pussy.

I leaned forward, pushing open both doors and stepping outside into the walkway, looking around at the scene in front of me. Get it over and done with.

The sights and sounds that greeted me was surprisingly magnificent, if I do say so myself, instantly shaking off any negativity I just had. It was dark now, the sun having just set, and all the decorations now lit up the streets brighter than the star of Bethlehem. Young children and their parents were running around the streets, all dressed up and chatting and playing amongst each other, in a joyous mood. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

I also noticed a police wagon stopped on the right sidewalk, down toward the far end of the street. Two policemen were loading the naked priests and nuns into the back before returning to the front seats and driving off, and I laughed out loud at the spectacle. Not so fucking awesome now.

Crossing the street to the sidewalk on the other side, I followed the street leading directly away from the church, walking along the left sidewalk and mingling with the various costumed people running to and fro in front of me. I flash my cool messiah smile as they pass by and they give me their attention, complementing me on my cool costume and asking how I managed to do the awesome holes in my wrists. I don’t bother telling them about that detail.

I walked to around halfway down the street and then came to a stop, allowing myself to fully absorb the festive atmosphere around me. I watched as a young child in front, dressed up as a bee, enthusiastically tugged both her bee-costumed parents by their hands to the next door and once again, I find myself smiling. Just across the street, I saw a young boy dressed up as a Stormtrooper from Star Wars having a play fight with his sister, dressed up as Leia, and I’m chuckling just like their parents behind them. I turn around and around on the spot, taking in all the wonders around me, and soon I’m laughing out loud in happiness and pure joy, attracting a few glances, though I don’t give a shit. This festival shit is fucking fun!

David Pilverman was right. There is real beauty in human connection. Even if it didn’t involve God. How could I not have seen this?

Of course, my asshole mind decided to bring up the fact that I initially wanted to take all this fun shit away from them, and I felt a little sad in response.

However, I didn’t actually manage to stop Halloween, did I? So, no harm, no foul.

I continued walking down toward the end of the street, looking for an unattended place where I could warp teleport back to heaven. It wasn’t too long before I found one – a darkened corner by David’s house, and I walk into the shadows and lean back against the wall.

I was wrong. The bitter taste of those words stung me. After all, I was the messiah, right? How often should I be wrong? But I was, and I’ve owned up to it. Next time, I won’t stop humanity’s silly festivals, I think to myself. I’ll let them enjoy their free will. Maybe, one day, they’ll exercise it in a way that leads back to me. That seems like the best way anyway.

Then, at that moment, I teleported from Earth back to the gates of heaven, which I walked through, making my way back to my daddy’s throne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween all. Feedback is incredibly important, especially when writing something as subjective as humor, so if you liked it (or didn't) then please leave a review letting me know what worked, what didn't, what could be improved, and what was just right as well as any other general comments that you think I should know (except that I'm going to Hell - I get that plenty already). Thanks for reading, and have a happy holiday.


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